Tipping The Scales Chapter 2 (Best daughteru chapter)

	Robin was confused. Well, confused was a gentle way of putting it. Absolutely and completely at a loss would be a better way to describe his mental processes following his daughter propositioning him in a roundabout manner as he was inside of her older sister who was also his daughter. Aforementioned older daughter was complicating things by currently shivering in his arms, and likely unable to support herself if he pulled out and let go and thus occupying most of his attention. Morgan had worked her way over to the one spare chair in the room not set at the desk and had positioned herself for the best possible view of her father and sister, blushing profusely but not quite looking away. Eventually he decided to just not think about it too much. He felt a little sick to his stomach if he did and that was a sensation that never got enjoyable, no matter how often repeated. A few more halfhearted thrusts were attempted before he realized that the moment was dead. Noire was finished off and honestly looked like she was about to go to sleep, eyes almost lidded and head rolling back. And still he hungered, cold tension built in his gut but slowly fading. A small, niggling voice in the back of his head (both of them) said to him that there was another here willing to receive him. Not a girl any longer, but not quite a woman.
	His daughter, Morgan. His eyes were drawn to the swell of her breasts and the width of her hips as she sat in his chair next to the bed (little more than a futon on a small raised wooden platform, but better than most beds in the camp), eyes wide and face bright red, close-lipped smile stretched across her face as she kneaded herself, trying to achieve some stimulation without making it obvious to him what she was doing. Foolish and naive, which was pretty much exactly what he was expecting. And there she sat, watching them as he slowly pulled out of Noire and carried her over to the bed (his bed), gently unwrapping her arms and legs from around him and tucking her in under the cotton sheet. She mumbled and gripped at his hand for a moment before twisting over and wrapping herself in the sheet like a cocoon. Robin mustered all of his courage and squashed down his conscience -- he was already  into the rabbit hole, might as well see how deep it goes. He turned smoothly to face his youngest daughter, naked as the day he was born and all of himself on display including his member standing tall. "You wanted a turn then, Morgan?"
	She had always been eager, but still Robin had never seen her stand so quickly, the Elwind tome in her arms clattering to the ground as she half stood, half jumped out of his desk chair. "Y-yeah! Oh wow, is now okay?" The slight stutter betrayed her nervousness along with the twisting of her hands and the slight squirm as she stood there before him, fully clothed but somehow self-conscious in front of his nakedness. It was almost funny, the confident man, clothesless and straight-backed standing before the unsure woman, burdened by the clothes on her back. He beckoned with a simple twist of his wrist, and she stumbled over to him, legs already shaky beneath her. Morgan fell into Robin's chest, arms wrapping around his back and refusing to meet his eyes. His hand automatically found it's way to her head and somehow began stroking her hair on reflex alone. The bend of a head and a whisper filled the room. "You okay, baby girl? You don't have to do this." A deep breath from his daughter and she lifted her head to meet his eyes, the worlds widest smile on her face. "Oh yeah, wow, Dad, I'm okay like you wouldn't believe." She pulled back all at once, sliding out of his arms like a greased cat. He reached for her again for just a moment before stepping back and watching as his youngest daughter stripped.
	It wasn't really for him, but a small part of Robin enjoyed it all the same. There was an element of classical beauty in her body, mostly muscle and toned flesh without stretching out of the femininity that accentuated her small but firm breasts and wide hips that she had certainly inherited from her mother. He'd be a liar if he said that she wasn't attractive, but it just didn't do for fathers to talk about their daughters like that. Given how tangled in insanity this entire situation was, though, he was willing to drop the pretense that he didn't find his daughter stunning. She moved with the grace of a cat as she bent and spun to remove her overcoat and baggy pants, revealing the cotton smallclothes that she wore which clung tightly to her frame (and were notably damp in the front, the small voice said) before moving on to the buttoned shirt that gave her hands some trouble unbuttoning in her excitement. After a couple of minutes she gave into her frustration and simply pulled it apart, two or three buttons pinging off the desk and ground as she tore her shirt open to reveal her assets to her father. She stood tall and proud in her smallclothes before her naked father, the ever-deepening blush the only indication of her excitement other than the usual grin on her face. Her eyes flitted over him, from his face to the scars on his chest and arms to his member (which she spent longer than usual staring at, he noted) to her sleeping sister in her parent's bed. "Well, dad, how do I look?" Her voice was low, kept low for the privacy that they sorely needed. He stepped over to her (not that they were far apart to begin with) and took hold of her shoulders to look her in the eyes. "You look gorgeous, baby girl." She flushed, either from the flattery or from his length pressing gently into her flat stomach.
	Taking him utterly by surprise, she leaned forward and claimed his mouth for her own. Her amateur skills meant that soon he was in control again, exploring her mouth at his own pace, but her eagerness was comforting, he supposed. Maybe he wouldn't feel bad about this. The kiss broke, and he gently began undoing the cotton binding that restrained her breasts. It gave him a moment of joy when he finished and they dropped free, the soft bounce to them easy on his eyes. Morgan bent a little to begin removing her smallclothes before a touch on her arm from Robin stopped her. He stepped back, kneeled, and slowly dragged her panties down, revealing a soft patch of black hair above her lips which he softly met with his own. Morgan giggled and leaned forward to rest her arms on his shoulders as he removed her panties entirely, stepping out of them so he could toss them to one side with a soft splat. With her juice on his lips, he stood and pulled her into his arms, a soft "eep!" from her mouth the only reaction. Robin's desire had only built since his tryst with Noire, and the now overpoweringly strong female scent in the tent was amplifying his carnal hunger to a new level. It was two steps to his desk,  the naked and overjoyed daughter in his arms tossed (carefully) face-first onto the table, an arm on her back to keep her from rising. She giggled and squirmed but failed to put up any real fight against his hunger.
	With one hand on her back, his other hand carefully guided his length to his youngest daughter's exposed entrance, pink flesh ever so slightly visible inside between her spread legs to accommodate his stance. The tip pressed into her and she gasped and her giggles became a soft, slow laughter as Morgan turned back to face Robin, looking past the arm pinning her to his work desk that he had taught her at so many times. Without further warning his lust compelled him to begin and he spread her insides slowly, more out of necessity than gentleness. She was tight, tighter than her sister and much more so than her mother, and the heat was intoxicating to him. The lack of tearing and bleeding that he had expected would likely have been more of a concern to him if she hadn't been trained in the art of pegasus-riding, removing the doubt that his beautiful daughter had been defiled by someone other than himself. Her laughter and gasping had been replaced with long, slow moans and murmurs of appreciation, although she had one last gasp as he hilted himself within her, head of his length pressing against something deep within her. A moment of heavy breathing from him and her lying flat and trying  not to move too much, the sensation overwhelming her before he began to move again and she started spasming anew.
	Robin was not slow and nor was he gentle. He pulled himself out halfway before slamming back inside, leaning on Morgan's back as she whimpered and moaned, occasionally whispering "Daddy..." when he pressed deeper than usual and brushed against the entrance to her womb. Every time she tried to push herself higher up onto her hands and knees he pressed down on her shoulderblades, first with one hand, then another as he pounded in and out of her warm, wet depths. She was completely helpless before his assault, and it awakened something primal within him to hold her as such, fueling his near boundless lust for his daughter. Blood pumped in his ears and he ground himself into her with every thrust, deepening her moans and causing her to twitch with every thrust. Eventually, holding his rigid position grew tiresome -- or perhaps his desire too great -- and he leaned ever closer to her back before finally gripping her shoulders and laying nearly on top of her, hammering into her and nibbling gently onto her ears, whispering that he loved her as he stole her purity, gaining speed and power, rocking the table with the force of his hunger. She had given up trying to speak and just moaned or sobbed with joy, trying to flail but failing as he held her down with all the gentleness of a storm. Her legs spasmed and she would have collapsed if not for the wooden table between her and the ground, a torrent of her arousal coating their legs and the ground beneath them, and she sobbed his name through clenched teeth, eyes watering as he just kept pounding into her, carrying her into her next orgasm, Robin's unrelenting onslaught on her young body throwing her to the heights of pleasure again and again. Around the fourth time that she clenched down on him, he rewarded her with his seed, cockhead pressed against her womb as it opened for him to deliver his seed in thick ropes directly into her center, burningly hot. A long, low howl of "Morgan!" quieted by it being into the skin of her neck announced the flood, pouring into her teenage depths, so many times that it flowed out of her entrance and onto the ground below with a soft plitter. A minute of silence as they lay there in the comfortable heat that they had created, before Robin slowly stood.
	He pulled out slowly, cursing himself mentally for his lack of self-control. How could he come inside his own daughter? And how would he explain this to Tharja? Morgan was clearly too tired to pull herself off the desk, as she just lay there and occasionally mumbled "daddy" with a smile on her face. How was he going to clean this up and get his daughters out of here before his wife returned? Soft , familiar laughter interrupted him. The sound of a spell being discarded (a sort of hissing sound) was heard, and his wife materialized into view in the corner of the tent, sitting on the bedside 'table', cheeks red and notably unclothed. "Oh, Robin. Having fun with our children and not even inviting me? I should be offended."